Unforgettable
by pennydumb
Summary: Oh, people misunderstood. They still do. No one really knows the kind of person he really is. They all told him that he's crazy, that all he can ever think about was himself, that he never really thought and cared about his own family.


_AN: This is gonna be my first entry for the Father's day. I've got nothing else more to say. Happy Father's day, minna! (esp. To my really awesome dad, wherever you are rn. We've been through the highs and the lows, but whatever, yo is still the dude of my life.) Enjoy~_

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**_Unforgettable_**

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He watches. He stands still by one part of the room as his gaze falls and remains on one particular person. He doesn't plan on taking his eyes away from him, or even dare to look away for one second. Even if an alien invasion would happen today or a zombie apocalypse breaks out, he _won't _let himself get distracted.

He fears most the things that are sudden. It's true that he's never good at managing children. Or maybe he does. He probably just failed to prove anything when he had the chance.

He takes a few steps forward, pushing himself off of the door. Maybe a glance won't hurt? They wouldn't kick him out of the house by just trying to get a perfect picture of his son sleeping, would they? He's longing for something, just like everybody else. He probably didn't from several years ago, but right now, is it safe to assume that it's never too late to make change? Even for someone like him.

The little boy inside the crib is like any normal little boy. Except, when Enji's looking at him, he felt like going back to the first day he actually felt like being a father. He thought he knew himself, but when his first son was born, his existence was redefined. Oh, people misunderstood. They still do. No one really knows the kind of person he really is. They all told him that he's crazy, that all he can ever think about was himself, that he never really thought and cared about his own family.

Was he, though?

Then, what kind of husband and father he's become from all these years?

One that was called crazy, brutal, and selfish, maybe? Maybe. That's what they told him. That's all that they know. And now that Enji's days of living are ceasing, the real him will soon be buried in the ground with him. No one will waste time and effort just to figure out how lonely and broken he was.

The little boy yawns, opening his small mouth as he lets the world a bit taste of his breath. The little boy slowly reaches his hands up, desparately clutching for something in the air. Enji's face softens as his brows curls up tenderly at the scene. He extends a pointer finger out and let the little boy's hands touch his. Grabs it. Grips it. It tightens. And it feels like he isn't planning to let go anytime soon.

"What are you doing here?"

Enji startles at the voice but he doesn't have to turn his head to see who owns it. His gaze continues resting on the little boy in the crib. They both seem to ignore the person who has just arrived. Enji would like to ignore him. But this house isn't his anymore. He shouldn't even be in this room at all. He clenches his jaw as he hums a random tune, one that he randomly caught from the television earlier in the morning. The little boy in the crib opens his mouth slightly, as if wanting to say something to Enji.

Footsteps are to be heard from behind Enji. The voice grows louder, "Who told you you can just wander around the house and see Yuuya?"

Enji's other hand grips the one side of the crib, holding himself down, ready in case he gets shoved away. He doesn't spoke. Then the footsteps stop.

"Are you waiting for me to drag you out of here?" the person says threateningly, Enji doesn't want to believe it. But it's happening, nonetheless.

"I just…"

"Get out."

"Shouto, just…"

"I'm not repeating myself."

Enji hates to lower his head down. He hates it when his son is using that kind of voice at him. He knows he's as useless as a shit these days but he's embarrassed to feel powerless around his son.

"Okay."

He slowly retreats away from the little boy in the crib, unwrapping the tiny hands from his fingers. He smiles at him one last time, albeit a little more bitterly, as he finally takes a step out of the little boy's vision.

Enji's eyes settle on the crib. He knows he should be going now, but his feet are glued to the floor. Shouto slowly ascended towards tending to his son, lifting him up from the crib and snuggling him into his chest, away from Enji's stare.

"Hey."

He looks up to Shouto, who has just called him. His eyes are not as fierce and fiery as before. Enji feels a sudden wave of envy while looking at those. They're not hardened as they looked back at him, but they still show the same no emotion.

"If you try and hurt anyone in my family again, I won't hesitate sending you back into the asylum. Do you understand?"

"Shouto."

"What?"

"Thank you." Enji opens his palm and looks at them, "Protect your family at all cost. They're the only people in the world that truly cares about you."

The bitterness in his smile never ceases. Earlier that day, he thought they'd forget about him. He thought they'd never remember about him being released from the hospital today. He feared that he'll be waiting forever for someone to pick him up. He feared that his family could be already moving on and would actually just ignore him after all that he's done to them.

Shouto came after all. He knows how to drive now. He drove him back home.

"I know that." the younger Todoroki whispers as he brings his hand to rub Yuuya's back gently. He sweeps slowly across the room until he's only few more steps out of the door. He stopped.

"Stop your sulking already. Fuyumi is making some breakfast. Make sure you have an appetite and not to waste it."

Enji is left alone. His turquoise eyes shine as it get wetter. It follows the path where Shouto has gone from, tracing his steps until it's gone. He is just glad that he didn't turn out to be just like him. His dreams and ambitions about him did come true, but Shouto did not become the person that Enji was despising with all of his remaining days of existence.

And he is glad just by that.

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_I own nothing but the mistakes._


End file.
